MUNICH, Germany—This might come as a surprise, but the most eagerly anticipated Porsche is not an even hotter version of the Porsche 911, but an all-new four-door sedan—the Panamera. This is the car that purports to be as practical as it is engaging to drive. So, naturally, we're eager to climb behind the wheel. But before we do, we're corraled into a briefing room for a Powerpoint presentation on the car's electronic features. We're led, switch by switch, around the dashboard, assured by Porsche's manager for electrical systems, Juergen Bortolozzi, that there's a logical layout to this multitude of buttons.

The meeting ends and we're finally handed the keys, a little unnerved that our first introduction to a new Porsche barely mentioned performance. The company has endowed the Panamera with a standard 400-hp V8 and even offers a 500-hp twin-turbo version, and surely those engines—not the cooled seats and iPod hookups—should enjoy center stage. We're already somewhat suspicious of the Panamera, since it's quite possibly the only Porsche model in the company's long history that's not available with a manual transmission.

Has this nearly six-figure sport sedan ushered in a sea change at the company we always reassuringly knew catered to the driving enthusiast? We swing open the Panamera's door and settle into the cockpit to find out. —Larry Webster

The Specs

At 195.5 inches, the Panamera is nearly 2 feet longer than a 911 and just half a foot shorter than a Chevy Tahoe. Yeah it's big, but at least the length was put to good use.

Unlike the Mercedes-Benz CLS, a sedan that sacrificed rear-seat volume for a rakish profile, the Panamera is both practical and distinctive. Its stretched, 911-like profile is unmistakably a Porsche (it looks far better in the metal, especially in white or green) and the two rear bucket seats are nearly as roomy and supportive as those in the front. (Power rear-seat adjustments are optional.) And the Panamera's sloped backside hosts a novel feature: a hatchback. Its inclusion is a bit risky, since Americans have traditionally avoided hatchbacks. But its practicality is undeniable. The cargo area has about the same room as the trunk of a Lexus LS460 and the rear seats fold flat, revealing a space that would do many SUVs proud.

The Panamera, however, only comes as a four-seater. A rear middle perch would be squeezed for head room, in between the center tunnel and the low roof. That center tunnel, of course, carries the driveshaft. Like the Cayenne, the Panamera stores its engine in front (a sturdy-looking, cast-aluminum front subframe supports the engine and suspension) with the transmission directly behind it. Rear-wheel drive is standard and all-wheel drive optional.

Speaking of powertrains, the Panamera's V8 is essentially the same as the Cayenne's, but with a few noteworthy tweaks below the crankshaft centerline. The engine is mounted lower in the Panamera, leaving little space for the front axle. Porsche's solution? Position the front, open differential on the passenger side of the aluminum oil pan. The left-side driveshaft passes through the pan.

In this V8, the computer runs the show, adjusting the timing of all four camshafts, the lift of the intake valves, the volume of the intake manifold and of the direct fuel-injection system. With 4.8-liters, the naturally aspirated motor belts out 400 hp at 6500 rpm and 369 lb-ft of torque at 3500 rpm. With two turbochargers huffing in 12 psi of boost, the blown motor increases the action to 500 hp at 6000 rpm and 516 lb-ft of torque at 2250 rpm. With the optional Sport Chrono package, the turbo can briefly increase the boost to a peak 567 lb-ft of torque.

There's only one transmission, the dual-clutch seven-speed that Porsche calls Doppelkupplungsgetriebe (PDK); it debuted earlier this year in the 911 and the Cayman. This seven-speed gearbox is basically an automated manual transmission: In automatic mode, the computer controls the clutches and shifting. In manual mode, the driver simply instructs the computer with either the steering-wheel-mounted switches or the center gear selector.

The stop-start feature, new for Porsche, is standard. To save fuel, this system turns off the engine when the car's sitting at a red light and then automatically refires it when you take your foot off the brake. It's a simple system with no additional hardware other than a modified starter. Since the a/c doesn't work when the engine is off, the computer only engages start-stop in temperate weather.

Most of the Panamera's main structure is steel. The outer body, however, is aluminum and magnesium and was strategically employed in structural areas to reduce weight. The suspension pieces are also cast aluminum. It still weighs about 2 tons, but it's hundreds lighter than an all-aluminum Audi A8.

Porsche trimmed the weight but didn't skimp on luxury. All cars come standard with adjustable dampers, and air suspension is optional. There are four climate-adjustable "zones"—one for each passenger. All the seats can be heated or cooled. Motorized sunscreens cover the rear windows. There's Bluetooth, navigation, CD changers, a rear-seat entertainment system and a Burmester audio system.

All these features present a problem: How do you operate them? Porsche avoided the single-point, menu-based system like the BMW iDrive, and instead uses buttons. Depending on the options, there are almost 100 very similarly sized switches sprinkled around the cabin. This sounds like perhaps a few too many, and at times it is frustrating to find just what function you intend to control. But there is no perfect solution on any luxury car that we've seen yet.

The Drive

From behind the wheel, you will notice this car's massive width first. At 76 inches across the beam, the Panamera is nearly 4 inches wider than a Honda Accord. And yet, it feels like you're sitting in an extra-wide 911. The fenders are higher than the hood—the classic Porsche outward view—and the windshield is steeply raked, leaving an attractive, shallow dash. The seating position is low, within an inch of the 911's, which puts you in the sports car mood.

The V8 lights with a powerful whump, after a twist of the ignition mounted to the left of the steering wheel. The computer engages the clutch as smoothly as we could have ourselves, and it changes gears nearly transparently. It's no wonder that this type of transmission will eventually kill the manual gearbox.

We set off on the autobahn first in a base V8 car. With no speed limits, we naturally squeeze the throttle flat to the floor. Porsche says the V8 model will run to 60 mph in about 5 seconds, a figure that felt accurate to us. And it has no trouble maintaining 150 mph or more. The Panamera simply excels on its home turf. The structure is solid, and the suspension displays a surprising resilience. It's compliant, with aggressive damping that dispatches surface irregularities with little cabin intrusion. Maybe that's why it's so stable at high speeds. Or maybe it's the rear spoiler that automatically deploys.

Whatever the reason, the Panamera runs like it's locked to the tarmac. Plenty of cars are good at this elevated velocity, but the Porsche is in another league. The steering is accurate without being overly sensitive.

Inevitably, we had to slow for a dawdling VW, so we jumped on the brakes at the last instant to test their effectiveness. The massive front and rear rotors, clamped by one-piece multipiston calipers, shrug off speed repeatedly without fade. Porsche offers a carbon-ceramic brake package. And this option saves about 40 pounds, but it also makes the brake pedal overly sensitive. We'd stick with the standard setup.

In the mountains near Austria, we happily slice through the roads, wondering if a 911 wouldn't be a bit more fun. The Panamera's size is never completely masked, but it does expertly walk that line between road communication and comfort. And it excels on the higher-speed corners, where the wonderfully accurate steering provides the confidence that the capable, stable chassis deserves. It's precise without being hard-edged, a compromise that few cars achieve.

Next, we took a turn in the Turbo model. It feels as quick as Porsche claims (0 to 60 mph in 4 seconds), but a few things about it left us cold. The Turbo is a couple of hundred pounds heavier than the normally aspirated model and the engine has a less engaging note. Oddly, the Turbo felt like it lacked some of the poise of the less expensive model.

We also spent some time in the back seat, since that's the main reason for this car's existence. There's plenty of leg and head room and the center armrest is at the perfect height. The seats are aggressively bolstered and thinly padded, which probably sounds like a recipe for torture. But as we've noticed before, a well-shaped seat needs little padding. And we wish we could take one from the Panamera back for our office.

Unless you're driving, the Panamera feels like any other expensive luxury sedan. It's so quiet that we actually fell asleep in the rear seat while another driver buzzed at triple-digit speeds.

The Bottom Line

The Panamera is an amazing piece of machinery. It drives exactly like the quiet giant it is—a very large and very capable Porsche sedan. We also know that the Panamera's future includes a less expensive V6 and a more fuel-efficient hybrid model. We'll see the first cars in the U.S. this fall starting around $90,000. Expect Turbo models to begin at just over $130,000. These are not inexpensive vehicles. But as the saying goes, if you have to ask ...

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